


Tear you Apart

by Valyria



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Dubious Consent, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:50:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valyria/pseuds/Valyria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock and Uhura infiltrate a Romulan vessel disguised as Romulans and have to go to great lengths to maintain their cover.<br/>Prompt fic for Lamb based very vaguely upon the TOS episode 'The Enterprise Incident'. Smut. Some Angst. But basically all smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tear you Apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KerryLamb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KerryLamb/gifts).



> This is unbeta'ed. I'm sure I missed a few typos.

_’You didn’t have to make me like it!’_

She felt the same as she had _before_ -all soft skin and long limbs, cool kisses and tumbling hair… but Spock felt it through his fingers, through their bond – the change in her.

He tightened his grip on her hip - her breath caught slightly. Pressed his mouth to the column of her throat and let his teeth scrape against her smooth skin with a firmness he rarely allowed himself with her.

Her head tilted back, offering more of herself to his attentions and he felt the pulse of her desire beating against him, but instead of lifting a hand to him, burying it in his hair or wrapping it around his shoulders as was her usual custom, her arms remained at her side, tightly gripping the sheets.

Spock grazed his teeth across her throat, lathed his tongue across the curve of it. She swallowed and he felt the movement beneath him. He let his teeth dig in slightly, let her feel the ease with which he could pierce her skin - tear through her weak human flesh - demonstrated the power he held over her. His physical supremacy. Her heart beat rapidly, her breathing quick and shallow. He lingered for a moment, the heady mix of arousal and fear he felt from her seeping into him, then he mouthed his way towards her left ear, nipping and licking at her skin, before drawing back to look down at her.

Her eyes were closed, a slight furrow between her brows. Sensing his regard she squeezed her eyelids further, hiding from him. Spock could feel how aroused she was. He ran fingers down along the line of her face and she turned into his touch, her behaviour a contradiction. She wanted him, and yet she lay before him immobile, unmoving almost as if… Ever the scientist Spock felt compelled to test his hypothesis.

‘Who do you belong to?’ he asked her in a low voice.

Again that maddening flutter of desire burnt through his fingertips. Her voice was soft.

‘You.’

He wrapped a hand around her jaw and tilted her head to the side.

‘Who do you obey?’

She moaned, the inhalation soft and warm against his thumb. Her eyes opened and heat lanced through him at the look she gave him.

_‘You.’_

* * *

 

Captain Kirk tossed the PADD he’d been reading down onto the conference table with a clatter. Nyota recognised the look of impotent irritation on his face. ‘I don’t like it.’ he proclaimed. ‘We’re Starfleet officers, not Intelligence Agents.’

‘Be that as it may Captain, our orders are clear.’ Spock replied evenly, though Nyota knew he was just as displeased as their CO. They _weren’t_ operatives or spies or whatever. They didn’t have the training for covert operations.

Kirk sighed and rubbed his temple. ‘And you and Uhura are the _logical_ choices for the mission.’ he said.

‘That is correct Captain.’ Spock agreed. ‘The Lieutenant and I are fluent in all three dialects of Romulan and being Vulcan will enable me to pass for a Romulan with ease.’

‘And Uhura?’ Kirk prompted glancing at her. ‘She’s not going to fool anyone.’

‘Dr McCoy is perfectly capable of surgically altering my appearance Captain.’ she replied. Something she wasn’t exactly _excited_ about, but it would only be temporary.

The Captain sighed and tapped his fingers against the tabletop in agitation.

‘I still don’t like it.’ he informed his First Officer and his Communications Chief at length.

* * *

 

He was behind her, his body so close to her sweat-slicked skin that she could feel his body heat. Her wrists stung where the bindings cut into her skin. Her knees ached where she knelt on the deck, the heavier gravity pushing her body down against the metal. She took a shallow breath - the ropes intricately wrapped around her breasts and ribcage prevented any deep inhalation. The air she sucked in was warm and dry, alien, nothing like the cool air of the _Enterprise._ Around her she could hear the muttering and breathing of the crew, phrases hissed in guttural Romulan.

He touched her. A hot hand firm between her shoulder blades. Her body twitched slightly. She didn’t know whether she wanted to press back into him, or flinch away. He twisted a hand into the cords across her back and tugged. She focused on the sensation of cord cutting into flesh, the sound of Spock’s breathing, and tried to block everything else out.

* * *

 

The Commander was a tall dark haired woman. It was difficult to guess her age - Romulans aged rather like Vulcans, she could be 40 or she could be 140 - but Spock estimated her to be perhaps 60 in standard years. Her dark eyes flicked over his body appraisingly.

He offered her the Romulan salute, a clasped fist rapped against his chest then lifted. ‘ _Jolan Tru Riov (Commander).’_ he greeted her. ‘I am _Erei’Riov (sub-commander)_ Arrius and this is my partner _Erei’Riov_ Saeihr.’

Nyota snapped a similar salute and bowed her head to the Commander.

‘ We have the schematics as discussed.’ Spock concluded.

‘And your cover?’

‘Intact Commander. The Starfleet Captain has sent us to pose as Romulans, intent on discovering the technology behind our cloaking device. He does not suspect the truth of the matter.’

* * *

 

The crew stared, sneered, made every effort to goad her into a fight.

Nyota glared right back, head held high, playing the part of haughty Romulan Sub-Commander. Inside she was afraid. Her disguise was only skin deep. It wouldn’t take much for it to slip. The gravity of the ship was oppressive to her weak human body. Red blood pumped through her veins. She felt like a mouse pretending to be a cat.

Two Centurions guarded an oddly lit corridor. Instantly her interest was perked. They’d been aboard almost a full day without locating the cloaking device. A guarded section seemed promising. Accordingly, she attempted to stride past them and explore.

They snapped to attention and barred her way.

‘Halt Sub-Commander. Only those with the express permission of the Commander may pass.’ the Centurion to her right informed her.

‘The Commander gave me free reign of the ship.’ she snapped back.

‘These are our orders.’

Nyota glared at them for a long moment and then turned on her heel feigning disinterest. Inside she felt a nervous thrill. The device _must_ be hidden down the guarded corridor.

* * *

 

The Romulan Commander and Nyota disappeared into her private quarters for her second debriefing. Spock had already had his ‘interrogation’ for the day, (though the Commander had seemed more interested in a more personal interview). He stared at the closed door for a moment before turning to return to the quarters he and Nyota had been assigned. He would take a route that would lead past the guarded corridor Nyota had spoken of. The cloaking device was undoubtedly hidden behind it.

Before he had taken half a dozen steps the Commander’s personal guards halted his progress. Judging from their body language, which was remarkably similar to that displayed by humans, they sought an altercation with him. He could ill afford such complications. He let his frustration show on his face, it only added to the illusion that he was Romulan instead of Vulcan.

‘You can’t handle your woman _erei'riov (sub-commander).’_ The male guard sneered. ‘She behaves as if she were your equal.’

The woman beside him snorted. _‘_ No she doesn’t, she acts like a simpering bond-servant, not an Imperial Agent. ‘ _Oh Arrius! Oh a’rhea!’ (dear-heart)’_ she exclaimed in what was evidently meant as an approximation of Nyota’s voice.

Spock blinked.

Carefully scanned his memories of the past 39.3 hours.

Nyota had referred to him by the Romulan endearment on 2 occasions, both of which occurred whilst they were alone in their assigned quarters. Apparently they were being monitored. It was good that they had both remained vigilant in maintaining their cover as Romulan agents newly returned from deep cover assignment within Section 31 of Starfleet Intelligence.

He carefully contorted his face into a sneer appropriate to a Romulan in the face of such an insult. ‘It is you who appears unable to control his woman _arraign (Centurion)_.’ he replied in a low threatening voice. He let his eyes flick over the female Romulan dismissively. ‘Do you require me to demonstrate some suitable methods for instilling appropriate respect for her betters in her?’

The Centurion narrowed his eyes but the female guard stepped towards him and levelled a disruptor pistol at him. Spock turned to meet her and neatly tripped her, pulling the weapon from her grasp and roughly shoving her face into the deck, careful not to use _suss mahna_. His cover specified that he had been living as Vulcan, but no Romulan would use Vulcan techniques if not required to. He shoved a knee into the small of her back and pulled on her arm, hard enough that were she human it would have broken.

 _‘Wort! Areinnye'n-hnah!  (bastard! Go to hell!)’_ she yelled from her prone position.

Spock ignored her and regarded the Centurion once more. ‘Your woman needs to be disciplined Centurion.’

The Romulan smirked. ‘Perhaps you could provide a demonstration? I’ve heard Imperial Intelligence agents are adept at the way of _esaahe (control)._ ’

Spock bared his teeth in a dark smile though inwardly he felt mild unease. The Centurion referred to the ritualistic binding and subjugation of a woman during sexual acts. A practice shunned on Vulcan. He certainly had no desire to demonstrate such a thing on the Romulan at his feet.

‘He could not tame _me_.’The Romulan woman spat.

‘Silence woman!’ Spock snapped, driving his knee sharply into her back. She let out a huffed breath but otherwise remained silent despite the pain the motion must have caused her.

‘Hm. Perhaps you are right.’ The Centurion agreed with his companion. ‘Six years living amidst those soft _Thaessu_ (Vulcans) and _hevam (humans)_ – you have probably forgotten how to handle a real woman.’

Spock raised an eyebrow at the challenge. ‘I assure you that is not the case.’

The Romulan sneered. ‘You even _sound_ like one of them.’

Consciously Spock screwed up his face in rage. He rapped the woman’s head against the deck, dazing her, and charged the Centurion with a yell. He needed to prove himself a volatile, emotional, _illogical_ Romulan. As inspiration he called upon Captain Kirk’s bizarre and violent style of personal combat. He headbutted the Romulan and kneed him in the groin.

The Centurion blocked his knee and grinning, punched him. Hard. Spock was unable to dodge it entirely and the man’s fist grazed his jaw. It had been some time since Spock had fought someone against whom he had no physical superiority. The Romulan was just as strong, fast, and well trained, as he. Spock tasted coppery blood in his mouth.

They exchanged blows for less than a minute before the Commander’s clear voice cut across the scene.

‘What is the meaning of this?!’

Spock dropped his right hand from where it had been attempting to throttle the Romulan and regarded the Commander respectfully. He was uncertain of what to say.

The Centurion solved the problem for him. ‘Sub-Commander Arrius offered to demonstrate the way of _esaahe_ upon his woman Commander _._ ’ he replied in a raspy voice. Spock observed green marks from his fingers around his throat.

Nyota’s eyes widened slightly where she stood behind the Commander, but she otherwise remained motionless.

‘I made no such offer.’ Spock replied, ‘Though clearly you are in need of instruction given the disrespectful behaviour of _your_ woman.’ He nudged the prone woman lying near his feet  with a boot for emphasis.

The Commander regarded the unconscious female guard and then the Centurion with narrowed eyes. ‘Sub-Commander Arrius is correct Centurion. Your discipline is lax.’ She turned to regard Spock and smiled slightly. ‘You will demonstrate to my guards the proper manner to maintain the respect of one’s subordinates.’ Her dark eyes flicked to Nyota and her smile grew sinister. ‘I shall find the lesson most enjoyable.’

It was only because Spock _was_ Vulcan, and not Romulan, that he was able to keep his horror off his face. ‘Commander. I do not have time to help discipline your crew. Sub-Commander Saeihr and I must make our report and return to our postings with haste.’

Nyota nodded. ‘We have tarried here too long already Commander. The human Captain grows suspicious.’

‘You would deny me?’ she snapped stepping forward to lean into Spock’s personal space. ‘Perhaps it is not my crew who must learn to obey!’

Spock gave a short Romulan salute, rapped a closed fist against his chest. ‘Forgive me Commander. I was unaware you meant to issue an order.’

‘Everything I _say_ is an order Sub-Commander.’ She replied coldly, peering into his face. ‘This is _my_ ship.’

* * *

 

Nyota tried to remain calm.

It was difficult given the fact that she was naked, tied up and Spock was hissing at her in Romulan.

_‘Be still!’_

She didn’t turn her head, she lay motionless, but not because of his words, rather because she was trying very hard to will their audience out of existence.

When she’d volunteered for this assignment she’d never considered such a situation. Discovery and death, yes – suspicion and public humiliation – no.

 _‘Stand.’_ Spock ordered her in a strange voice she didn’t recognise. He sounded different. _Angry._ He was attempting to sound Romulan and succeeding since she was actually scared of him. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his shaved head and the dark markings of the symmetrical tattoos sweeping across his forehead and down from his temples to frame his face.

She carefully rose to her feet. It was difficult bound in such a manner. Once she had the cool deck under her, she focused on not trembling. She was supposed to be a Romulan Sub-Commander. She needed to act like one. Proud, angry, indignant. Maybe if she focused all her attention on acting, on pretending, she’d be able to pretend the rest of this nightmare was fake as well.

She sneered at Spock. _‘You need to tie me up just to control me Arrius?’_ she taunted him. _‘Maybe you **have** spent too much time with Vulcans.’_

Spock blinked, the delay infinitesimal, unnoticed to any save her, then his eyes narrowed and his face twisted into a caricature of rage. She felt the warning in the back of her mind and shifted on her feet slightly. He backhanded her. It made a loud noise and she let her breath huff out and her body twist to one side at the impact, but he’d carefully judged his strength. It stung hotly but it wouldn’t leave a bruise.

Nyota did her bit for the charade, she bent and spat on the deck, as if clearing her mouth of blood. In the darkened room the Romulans would assume there was. Straightening once more she glared at Spock.

_‘You do not speak unless I tell you to.’_

Nyota drew her lips back over her teeth in a snarl, displaying the pointed caps McCoy had given her as part of her disguise.

Apparently dissatisfied with her response, Spock grabbed her and yanked on one of the ropes that bound her. Nyota suddenly found herself on her knees before him, her wrists pulled down almost to her ankles. Her back muscles strained at the uncomfortable position.

She glared in a slightly more subdued manner at him and tried to ignore the frantic thunder of her heart.

* * *

 

He’d known how to tie the long lengths of black cord around her. His hands moved in patterns, tied knots and loops that were both familiar and alien to him. A side effect of the mind meld he’d performed on the Romulan aboard the Narada – memories half recalled. Not his own. He’d been hurried and the Romulan had been unconscious. He’d torn through his thoughts roughly, rooted through his mind seeking the information he needed. He’d witnessed much he had not intended to see, and he remembered it all with his eidetic Vulcan memory, the thoughts of that now dead Romulan, including how to… _subdue_ a Romulan female.

It was good that he knew these things, how to bind her, the ritual of the actions involved. If he had not, their cover would have been blown… but.

It was… shameful. Unclean.

To do such things to Nyota.

Unthinkable to do so in front of others.

But what was the alternative? Even if they abandoned their mission, there was no way for them to return to the _Enterprise_ at the current juncture. They must play along, continue their cover.

She was looking up at him, her face twisted in hatred, the flared Romulan eyebrows of her disguise emphasising the expression, but he could feel her fear through their bond. She found their current situation as distasteful as he. Like himself however, she was aware that they had no alternative.

So she glared at him as he roughly used her mouth, forced himself down her throat in front of half a dozen Romulans. He twisted fingers in her hair and tried to ignore the disgust he felt at exposing his mate to others in such a manner.

* * *

 

He’d ordered her to undress. She had refused. He had hit her. When she’d been reduced to her underwear, she’d fought him in earnest, unable to accept exposing herself in front of a room full of strangers. A roomful of gloating Romulans. Of course she’d played right into their hands. They’d found her rebellion amusing, been delighted to watch Spock raise his hands to her.

The tears she had shed when Spock had pinned her to the deck and torn the last pieces of cloth from her body had been real.

And then the Commander had laughed and given Spock a long length of rope.

* * *

 

Spock stared down at her. The replicated length of cord wasn’t the same as the rope he’d utilised aboard the Romulan ship, but the way it was looped and twisted around Nyota’s body was.

Idly he traced a dark line of cord that ran across the top of her right breast before crossing to pass under the soft mound of her left. There was a mark there, a bruise against the deep brown of her skin. He pressed fingers to it and met her eyes, knowing she was recalling how it came to be there.

* * *

 

She’d lost her nerve. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t pretend any longer.

Words were on the tip of her tongue, words in standard. _Please Spock!_ She sobbed and tried to hold them in, but it was impossible, she opened her mouth started to speak –

Spock’s teeth sunk deeply, _painfully_ into the soft underside of her left breast. Her pleading words were lost in a pained scream and then he had a hand wrapped around her throat, cutting of her breath, her scream.

He shouted at her in that hateful tongue. _‘Silence!’_

She sobbed but obeyed.

* * *

 

He was uncertain of when it had occurred exactly, but Spock realised with disgust that he was… aroused. Was it simply Nyota’s beauty that was affecting him? Arousing him despite the horror of their circumstance? Or was it these terrible things he was doing to her?

He looked down at her back, the slim muscles of her shoulders straining and flexing as he stimulated her with his fingers, dipping inside her body, reaching up to apply pressure to her clitoris with practised ease. He was attempting to prepare her body. Intercourse was expected. Necessary. He had no desire to cause her additional pain. And it was working, his fingers were wet and warm with her arousal - but she was pulling against his hold, straining against her bindings, trying to get away from him. Her body would be bruised. He felt her anguish. She was in pain, deep emotional pain. And yet he was hard and eager for her body. Unlike Nyota, he would need no additional preparation to perform before their Romulan audience.

Guilt washed over him even as he felt his lok twitch in anticipation.

* * *

 

She could hear them, muttering, laughing, _critiquing._ Their words cut her deeply inside. She’d never felt such shame, such humiliation. She was exposed, naked and trussed up for these Romulans to leer over, and worst of all, a disgusting part of her _liked_ it. Spock’s fingers were warm and sure against her body and she wanted him to fuck her almost as much as she wanted him to stop.

She sobbed and dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands.

* * *

 

‘Great job guys!’ the Captain proclaimed, slapping Spock upon the shoulder and smiling widely. ‘Knew you had it in you!’

‘On the contrary Captain, you repeatedly expressed your concerns as to our likelihood of success.’ Spock replied. He could not quite bring himself to look at Nyota. She likewise avoided meeting his gaze.

‘Nah, I knew you’d be fine.’ Kirk insisted. ‘Scotty’s got the cloaking device hooked up and working. We’ll probably get commendations for pulling this off.’

* * *

 

The deck was hard and unforgiving against her cheek . She could feel a bruise forming on her cheekbone where she was being ground against the cool metal, but she didn’t have the strength lift her head. With her arms tied behind her back she had nothing to brace herself against.

They’d fallen silent now, the only sign that she and Spock weren’t alone was their heavy breathing. She kept her eyes shut and tried to focus on the pain she felt. The cords digging into her flesh, the hard deck and Spock’s hand where it was wrapped around her neck, keeping her from screaming.

She was almost able to ignore how wet she was, how with every harsh movement of his body inside hers, Spock was bringing her closer and closer to orgasm.

* * *

 

Her shower lasted much longer than was the norm. Spock waited in their shared quarters, trying to quieten his thoughts.

She had not bothered to shut the door. When she emerged from the cubicle the lines marring her flesh, the long welts and bruises criss-crossing her body stood out starkly. She met his eyes in mirror and for the first time in many months, years, he had no idea what Nyota Uhura was thinking behind those dark eyes of hers.

* * *

 

‘ _Who do you belong to?’_

He made the demand in Romulan of course.

Nyota sobbed. Her throat felt dry and there was the faint metallic taste of blood in her mouth . Her skin throbbed and burnt where the rope had rubbed it raw. But despite all this, her traitorous body was fluttering wetly around Spock’s cock.

She answered him just so it might be over.

_‘You.’_

She suddenly found herself pulled up on her knees, Spock’s arm hooked around her neck and his fingers digging into her hip as he continued to surge within her. The sudden movement had her head spinning and tears spilling down her face.

_‘And who do you obey?’_

The arm at her neck tightened, cutting off her air supply slightly at her silence.

_‘You!’_

He made a noise. A snarl of virile, male, satisfaction that she’d never heard from him before. It sent a shameful mix of fear and pleasure through her exhausted body. She felt his fingers, hard and insistent, rubbing at her clit.

 _‘You will come.’_ he ordered her.

To her dismay her body obeyed him without hesitation, clenching in white hot pleasure around him. He ground himself against her, pressing deep inside her and she knew from the way his breath caught he was about to follow her. Abruptly she was shoved forward to fall painfully against the deck, his cock sliding out of her. Nyota lay motionless, her sex continuing to spasm hollowly with the fading throes of her climax. She felt the hot wet spurt of his come across her back, heard the alien growls, snarls and assorted vaguely felid-esque noises of approval from their Romulan audience at her subjugation.

She was uncertain how long she lay there in an awkward, aching, mortified, mess of sweat and come, but eventually she noted the noises of the Romulans growing louder once more. With conscious effort she blocked out what they were saying, kept her eyes screwed shut. But _he_ was impossible to ignore. When Spock pulled her into his lap and impaled her upon his length once more, she couldn’t help the pleading whine of pleasure the movement evoked in her. He pulled her tight against the hard heat of his body and buried his teeth in her shoulder.

* * *

 

She glared at him and this time he knew it was entirely authentic.

Her anger was a bright righteous thing.

Spock regarded her calmly, awaited her inevitable emotional outburst.

‘How _could_ you?’

‘I saw no alternative. I assure you I attempted to formulate one.’ Spock replied. They both knew the statement was accurate. He’d felt her acceptance of the same on the Romulan ship. It was only now, after the fact, that she questioned it.

‘You didn’t have to make me _like_ it!’ she spat at him.

* * *

 

His mouth was hot and insistent at her breasts, torturing first one and then the other - his teeth catching gently at her nipples, his tongue rasping wetly over raised throbbing flesh. Fingers twisted and rubbed in counterpoint between her thighs and Nyota felt the slickness of her arousal seeping onto the sheets beneath her.

She twisted against the ropes binding her body, the strain on her muscles adding to the heat filling her. Her sex ached with heavy hollowness, desperate for his touch.

 _‘Please.’_ she begged.

He froze and pulled up to stare down at her, the closest thing to a real frown she’d ever seen on his face. ‘ _Do not address me in that tongue.’_ he hissed in Vulcan.

Romulan. She’d spoken Romulan.

 _‘Please._ ’ she amended in his native tongue instead.

His brow smoothed slightly but he remained staring at her for a long moment. Nyota twisted her hips insistently, trying to tempt him.

Without breaking from her gaze he dug fingers into her hip and aligned their bodies.

She held her breath as he pressed hot and hard against her, temptingly. ‘ _Please please please!’_ she mumbled vaguely.

He slid into her in a long smooth movement. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her body locked around his, tensing and relaxing all at the same time.

 _‘Who do you belong to?’_ he asked again.

 _‘You!’_ she replied without hesitation.

 _‘Who?’_ he repeated, beginning to move slowly against her.

Nyota groaned. _‘You.’_

‘No. _Who do you belong to?’_

She blinked up at him in confusion. ‘You?’ she replied in confusion.

He made a low growl of displeasure, hardly audible but the vibration apparent where his chest pressed against hers. Nyota frowned. _‘You – Spock!’_

 _‘Yes.’_ he agreed, moving within her once more. _‘Who is inside you Nyota?’_

 _‘Spock…’_ she groaned.

 _‘And what am I?’_ he demanded.

 _‘Va-‘_ she was cut off as his sharp movements forced her breath from her lungs. ‘ _Vulcan!’_

 _‘Who do you obey Nyota?’_ he asked.

She groaned and met his eyes, eyes completely different to those that had stared down at her ont the Romulan ship. ‘Spock. Spock of Vulcan.’ she replied in standard.

He went still and his hands were suddenly pulling at the ropes binding her, using a combination of brute strength and nimble fingers to untangle and tear them from her. _‘Yes, Spock of Vulcan. Not Arrius of Romulus.’_ he spat the last with the most distaste she’d ever heard expressed in Vulcan.

When she felt the pressure at her wrists give, she wrapped her arms around him, rubbed fingers over the stubble of his shaved head and pulled his face to hers to kiss him.

‘Yes.’ she agreed at length. ‘My Spock. Spock of _Vulcan._ ’

**Author's Note:**

> This was in response to the following prompt from lamb:
> 
> Prompt: Spock and Uhura experiment with Romulan Bondage with interesting results!  
> Requirements: Smut, smut and more smut  
> suggestions: Angst, dirty talk, dubcon, possibly OOC Spock ( I figure that makes it easier), strange bondage equipment, D/S  
> bonus points (in no way required): alien genitalia, BDSM club scene, caught in the act
> 
> It's not totally as per her prompt, but as close as my brain could get. :/ I have trouble with super kinky smut. I'm terrible at writing it. My inner sap demands happy endings.
> 
> (Name is from the best song kinda about bondage ever. 'tear you apart' by she wants revenge.)


End file.
